Belinda: Works in Progress

Paul nods.

"Of course, now I feel overdressed. Perhaps you'd like to help a lady out?"

He needs no more encouragement, and puts his massive paws on my shoulders, caressing for a moment before sliding the straps of my gown off, letting them fall down my slender arms. I turn, looking back at him, so he can unwrap--errr, unzip me, revealing a flirty silver camisole and tap pant ensemble that I find clients usually like as much as I do. I model for him, reveling in his rapt attention, until finally he reaches for me, pulling me close. The next kiss is a good deal like the first, except perhaps with a little more ardor... from both of us.

As I may have mentioned, I like tigers.

He helps me out of my silky unmentionables and shrugs out of his shirt. "I know I'm a little out of shape, but..."

I put a finger over his lips. My voice takes on that warm, syrupy tone I sometimes get as I say, "I'm going to tell you a little secret, Paul. Some women can't live without washboard abs. Me, I like a guy I can cuddle with. You're in perfect shape for that."

Unsurprisingly, he calls my bluff, and we don't talk for a bit. For a virgin who's about not to be, he is almost supernaturally good at making out--attentive, sensitive, and gloriously good at exploring. I make a mental note to put that gifted tongue of his to good use. He's far too chivalrous with the paws, though. Granted, it's refreshing not to have a guy immediately reach for my breasts and start groping, but at some point I realize he's holding back. He's worried that he's going to come prematurely. The solution is obvious. I reach for him.

"Ohhhh," he gasps, as I start taking care of his most urgent need in earnest, my practiced paws gripping his shaft. I feel him start to leak almost immediately--not surprising--and he whimpers, "Belinda, I'm not going to last if you keep doing that..." He looks down at me, and at my naked form.

"Probably not, no," I say, slowing down. "That's why I like to call the first one a warm-up--or a warning shot, if you will," I say. A wicked sparkle in my eyes, I continue in a thick voice, "You don't think this is the only one you get, I hope."

And I speed up, to absolutely no objection from Paul. Thought not. In fact, he relaxes, enjoying the inevitable, just as I had hoped. I lean forward, now crouching between his legs, enjoying the feeling of him looming over me. I'm just short of six feet tall in my stocking feet--damn, I'm still wearing those!--but in this position, his massive seven-plus-foot frame completely dwarfs me. For now. He tenses again. Point of no return.

"Belinda, I'm going to--"

I smile at him. "Yes, you are," I agree. I smile up at him, my face directly over his throbbing cock. "Where would you l--"

He answers my question wordlessly, abruptly, his hips spasming as he erupts, shooting streams of his seed in my face, on my generous bosom, even getting a little in my violet hair. I always feel a little pleasantly naughty when I cause that reaction.

He pants and thrusts at the air as his orgasm continues, the torrent slowly ebbing. As he subsides, he looks over at me, grinning conspiratorially at him. "Oh, wow...I didn't mean to..." he says, smiling, but looking a little guilty.

I giggle. "Naughty, aren't I?"

"Can I help you clean up?"

I smirk, feeling the sticky fluid running down my face and breasts. "It does involve a busty plastic wolf woman, a shower, and a...well, a couple of washcloths. Think you're up to it?"

Paul blushes...and that tremendous member of his stirs. "Yes. Yes, I am."

I pick up a small cotton towel off the coffee table and wipe some of the excess cum. I say "some" because a hand towel is nowhere near equal to the task. At least I'll be able to avoid getting too much on the carpet.

I have always found showers stimulating--something about having droplets of water drumming on my inflated skin, I suppose. Having a nice strong tiger in the shower with me turns out to be an added bonus. Paul completely loses his self-consciousness as he soaps me up and takes a welcome opportunity to explore my shapely body with those big strong paws. After I rinse off, I look at him with a twinkle in my eye, and close the tiny distance between us, backing up against him. Of course, by now, he has had more than enough time to recover, and I can feel his hardness in the cleft between my round buttocks. I have something else in mind, though; I guide one of his paws from my breasts down to my labia. He leans closer, his breath warm and welcome in my ear. His lips are just inches away from my neck valve, but I mean to save inflation play for later.

Paul rubs tentatively at my mound. He's completely new to this, as I figured, but he has the right instincts. He tenses a bit. "Belinda," he whispers, "I want to please you, but I have no idea what I'm doing."

It may violate every professional code I have set for myself, but I want to keep him. I have found a male who asks directions.

I take one of his huge fingers in my suddenly dainty paw. "Here," I say softly back to him. "Just start rubbing here...yes, like that..." I rub against him encouragingly. He lacks experience, but not initiative or curiosity, and in short order, his remarkably deft hands have figured out why my pussy likes. While I am willing to fake orgasm for a well-meaning client, with Paul, I have the luxury of sharing my real pleasure. I can feel the happy telltale signs, the warmth rushing through my skin, radiating out from my vulva throughout my entire inflated body and back, the shivers as my neural systems overload...

But what sends me over is the sudden realization that this is his first time. He's only going to get better! I thought, and then cry out with joy and pleasure. "YEAAAAAAAAAAH!"

I wriggle against him, rapt with the waves of climax coursing through me, and just as I feel like I'm winding down, I feel his erect member thrust and squeak between my bouncy butt cheeks, and then splatter them with another flood of his cum. That puts me back over the edge again, and we both pant and whimper and wriggle and snuggle until we slowly slump to the floor of the shower.

It's a little while before we can do anything but breathe heavily and grin at each other like idiots. "So..." I finally say. "Enjoying the evening so far?"

Paul pulls me close, and I feel the delightfully hot water of the shower on my back. "Belinda...I'm having the time of my life with you." He kisses me, and I kiss back unreservedly.

After a bit of rinsing each other off, and nuzzling, and giggling, we untangle from each other. "I'm glad I thought to get extra towels," I said, looking at his broad-shouldered body, covered in wet fur. I turn off the shower and reach for a couple, and start rubbing his fur dry. The scent left behind from the soap goes very well with his natural musk. I find myself smiling at him constantly. Sometimes I think my senses are too strong for this job...but for right now, I am content to simply accept and enjoy.

"Before you put too much effort into it," Paul says suddenly, and with a tiny bit of apprehension..."I was wondering if...if we could try something."

"Oh?"

"Well, you've mentioned that you're inflatable," he says. "Is that...is that something we could kind of explore?"

I hold my lower lip between my teeth playfully. "Tell me what you'd like to try, and we'll see if we can make it happen," I say, hoping my voice sounds merely sweet and encouraging and not eager.

He looks really nervous, worried that he might cross an unspoken boundary. He turns, leans close, whispers in my ear. "I want to blow you up and make love to you in the tub."

I run a finger across his damp, furry chest, as if considering it. "You ARE a naughty boy," I say softly, playfully. "You want to make me your little rubber ducky?"

Paul rubs his muzzle along my jawline. He's half-kneeling on the soft bath mat in front of the shower as I stand over him, the towels now just hanging off him thanks to his distraction. His big head feels warm against my neck and shoulder. "Well...I do want you," he says. Still a little boyish, but just around the edges.

Now, I have a very firm policy (among other attributes) that if a client asks nicely, I will do anything I can. I don't think it's possible for anyone to ask any more nicely than Paul does, and what he wants is definitely something I can do. "Hmmmm..." I pretend to consider. "If you reeeeeeally want this...I suppose we can give it a try." I kiss his nose.

Paul is at this wonderful age for an old gal like me. Legally, he is an adult, of course, or he wouldn't be here. But he hasn't lost this sense of childlike wonder that I see as his eyes widen. Now, I'm not exactly the stereotypical hard-hearted whore, but I can feel myself melt.

I help him up, and he wraps his arms around me. We make out a little more as the whirlpool tub fills with hot water. Thankfully, I entertain clients of all shapes and sizes, so I ordered a very large tub. Some clients get impatient waiting for the water to reach a comfortable volume, but I manage to keep Paul's attention focused elsewhere. Also, his paws. Oh, those wonderful paws. He squeezes my hips, my rump, and of course, my breasts. I think more than a few of the clients focus on them almost throughout their time with me, but given that I can vary my shape considerably, it's not as though I mind.

His paws feel really, really good--warm and gentle. He doesn't squeeze them like teats (though I can give milk, but that requires some preparation, especially since I don't produce it on my own--and it's not really my favorite kind of play) or handle them like basketballs. I turn around in his arms so he can hold me against him as he gently cups them, feeling them, relishing how they just fill his massive paws (okay, so maybe I've inflated them just a tiny bit since we got back; I didn't want to make a scene at the restaurant, and my outfit was too discreet to make them too huge in public). I press back against him, caressing his cheek to let him know that I welcome his touch. He very gingerly touches one of my nipples with his index finger. I giggle. What took him so long? He traces my heart shaped aureole, as if stunned he didn't notice it before.

"Tub's just about right," I say. He reaches over, reluctant to take even one paw off me, and turns off the faucet. I motion for him to climb in, and he carefully does so. I turn on the bubbles, winking at him.

Then he grabs my arm and I give a surprised yelp pulls me in on top of him. He and the water are warm and wet, and I've been getting steadily wetter since before he brought me off the first time. I relax in his arms, and he lowers us into the hot water. Well, I basically float.# But it's the thought that counts.

The white porcelain tub is so big that even Paul is up to his neck in the water. Like I said, I entertain a wide variety of clients in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. I drift for just a second, smiling at him, and say, "So." His eyes are just about level with my navel.

"God, you're beautiful, Belinda," Paul says. His eyes take in the sight of my curvy form gently bobbing up and down in the clear water.

"You're pretty cute yourself, big boy," I say. I once saw an actress named Mae West use that nickname in a really old movie, and it really seems to fit here. "I believe you had put in a request for a busty pool float?"

He giggles. Well, it's more of a rumble, but it's got the cadence and undertones of a giggle. Mirth is exchanged. That's the important part. "I believe I did," he says suavely. "I am willing to supply the extra air..." He breaks character suddenly, back to the big cute man-cub I'm really getting to like. "Er, how much air can you take, exactly? You'll tell me when to stop, right?"

"Paul, you're so sweet and considerate. I can handle...let's just say 'plenty,'" I say, petting his cheek. I drift a little, until our heads meet, and bat my eyelashes at him, his green eyes fixed on my lavender eyes. "Can I have some, please?"

He swallows hard. I love causing that.

He takes he in his arms, a little awkwardly at first, since I'm floating and he's not, but he finally figures out that when he stands, I can kneel and let my natural buoyancy keep me afloat with my head just above his chest level. He wraps those big arms around my slender waist and leans in to kiss my neck. "Can I blow you up from this valve?" he says, his hot breath tickling it deliciously.

"Only if you really want to turn me on," I answer, half-moaning despite myself. A devilish little voice deep in my mind giggles, You naughty little minx. You're getting PAID for this? How the Hell did you pull that off?

He mmms, his lips against my sensitive skin. Oh, and he's a fast learner, too. "Yes. Yes, I do," he rumbles...and then licks at the pushed-down nozzle on my neck.

Paul takes the valve in his teeth and carefully pulls it up, and then unplugs it, eeping cutely as a little air gets out before he puts his tongue over it. He takes a breath, covering the nozzle with his lips, and slowly inflates me.

I whimper as I feel the hot air pushing into me, expanding me. I distribute the air throughout, albeit with a little extra emphasis on the boobs and butt. I want him inside me a little bit more with each exhalation.# His paws explore my bulging body as he fills me, and he starts groping me a little less delicately and a little more lustily. I feel myself growing bigger, taller, bouncier.

"That's right, Paul...blow me up so nice and sexy...." I moan. For a wonderfully long time, the only sounds in the bathroom are the soft rush of his breath through my valve and the happy squeaks of his paws all over me. Well, his paws, and his cock, which has once again grown to its full glory. I lick my lips, anticipating how it will feel, entering, thrusting, pulsing, throbbing...

Eventually, he stops after realizing he can just barely get his arms all the way around my waist, and pushes the stopper back in with his tongue. "God, I want you, Belinda. I want you so much..."

"And I want you to ride me good and proper, big boy," I whisper intently.

Paul lays me down in the bubbling water, and gingerly climbs aboard, as it were. I'm actually taller than he is now, though I've kept my hourglass figure, and more than buoyant enough to hold him up in the water. I feel his manhood against my thigh, nice and hard. "Fuck me," I whisper.

He wriggles around a bit until I can grab his erect member and guide it to my nether lips. He gasps at the sensation...and then enters me, and it's my turn to gasp as that magnificent cock fills me and stretches me. "So wet for you, Paul..." I pant, my hips flexing, urging him onward. He starts to slide tightly in and out of me, letting instinct take over. I wriggle underneath him, aroused to the point of distraction, reveling in his arms, wrapped tightly around me. He's got me blown up so big that his head only comes up to my cleavage, and his fuzzy cheeks rub my boobs. I rest a hand on his head, stroking his fur encouragingly.

"Belinda..." he moans. "Feels so good...holding you...fucking you..."

I growl happily and arch my back, making waves, to the point where a little water washes over the side of the big tub. "It does feel good, Paul...having you stretch my poor little pussy...pounding away at me with that big thick hard cock..." I stroked his shoulders as my hips moved with him of my own accord.

He turns his head slightly, and takes one of my nipples in his mouth. I'm not sure if he's going to blow me up any bigger, though if he wants to, I can happily accommodate him. Plus, he's got me right where I want him anyway. At first, he licks and suckles at it, and I hear my own voice moan and giggle simultaneously. All the while, he's still thrusting in and out of my sex, floating almost completely out of the hot water on my hugely inflated body. Sure enough, he looks at me as if asking approval. I return to myself enough to give him an indulgent smile, and he takes the stopper delicately between his teeth, carefully (though not so carefully that I can't feel myself gushing down below at the stimulation) tugging at it until it comes free with a soft cork-popping sound. He doesn't let me deflate very much at all before he starts blowing up my already-bulging bosom...

I have a sudden climax without any forewarning, probably from the combination of all the stimulae, especially his delicious weight bobbing on my blown-up form as he pumps in and out of me. My spasming and wriggling cause him to lose his grip, and his weight shifts, he grabs me, his claws extending instinctively for better grip. I cry out as I peak again--I've always loved claw-play, though I am thankfully very hard to puncture, even at maximum pressure, and I'm nowhere near there.

Unfortunately, Paul forgets that I'm tougher than I look, and lets out a shocked "eep!" when he realizes his claws are out, and in the excitement, he falls off, slipping wetly out of me as he splashes into the tub.

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry," he yelps as his head clears the surface, panicked, as I thrash around, my orgasms overlapping for a bit before I finally recover.

I sit up, and then overbalance so that I wind up lying on my considerable front, and put a paw on his shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay, Paul..." I gasp. "You didn't put any holes in me."

He stops cold, blinks, and throws his arms around my neck. He is such a sweetheart! "Oh, thank God, Belinda...I would never want to hurt you..."

He'd have to try pretty hard. Still..."That means a great deal to me, cutie," I say.

We cuddle for awhile, just relaxing rather than actively trying to pick up where we left off. As I figured, his enthusiasm (and that gorgeous cock) soon recover, and I bring him back aboard, as it were. This time, though, there's definitely a certain...bond between us, and not just the physical coupling. I feel even safer with him than I had up to now; before, he just seemed like a harmless boy I could handle if he got out of hand. Now, he felt more like someone I wanted as...well, if not a lover, then at least a very welcome repeat client. From the expression in his half-lidded eyes, he felt it too. He resumes putting more air in my breasts, and that wonderful cock of his pushes in and out of me, just barely fitting, until finally he arches his back, bouncing me up and down and splashing as he cums, sending streams of semen into me until I find myself going over the edge again. He pushes my buttons really, really well.

When our orgasms die down, we rock back and forth together in the water, his manhood softening inside me. His smile is one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. "That was amazing, Belinda," he says softly.

"Pretty amazed here too, big boy," I answer. "A virgin, huh?"

He nods. "Yep. Well, not anymore."

"No, I'd say you're pretty thoroughly not a virgin anymore. But damn, do you have good instincts..."

We begin to untangle ourselves, a bit reluctantly--but I remind myself that I still want to take him to bed, and I'm pretty sure he'll be willing. I'm a little wobbly as I make my way across the tile to get some nice dry fluffy towels. "Seriously?" he asks while I dry him off.

"You pay attention to your partner's body language," I say softly in his ear, rubbing his wonderful fur with the absorbent white terry cloths. It's a little weird standing over him now, a full head taller thanks to his delicious air. "You're extremely considerate, and you focus totally on what we're doing. You give yourself over to the moment, and let your body enjoy everything." Every word is true. He's what we call a natural.

Soon enough, Paul is reasonably dry, and bearing a deeply relaxed smile on that cute face. He stretches and turns to regard me in the soft light. "Wow. Did I do that to you?" he asks, looking me up and down as if seeing my body for the first time.